


Let's do this

by Narmie



Series: Merry go around [4]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut, and dunno what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narmie/pseuds/Narmie
Summary: They have decided to do it, finally - and now here they are. Happy. Full of joy.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: Merry go around [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050779
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64
Collections: CMBYN December Fest 2020





	Let's do this

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't hane any idea for this Fest but I wanted to participate, so I guess I went with the easiest one - 'A glimpse into a future'.  
> Enjoy and happy holidays. 
> 
> PS: I'm adding it to my Holidays-series even though there isn't any Christmas-related thing happening

I feel an incredible warmth encompassing me and I snuggle closer, wanting more. I float somewhere in the middle, not asleep but still not entirely conscious. Right in that place when you know you could wake up, but the comfort of the sleep pulls you back in. My mind registers the roughness against my cheek, the heat under my fingertips, but there’s no immediate decision to seek the answers. My brain just accepts this unusual situation, apparently aware of something else my foggy consciousness isn’t. It doesn’t get alerted, instead, it pulls me further into the deep, gently crossing the borderline of the unconscious, slipping over it. 

I’m not sure if any time has passed before I’m at this place again, groggily waking up to the familiar surroundings. Which is a surprise on its own, because I don’t really remember the time when I woke up and just knew where I was with how much I happened to change hotels and locations. I always had to wait for my brain to catch up. But when I sleepily blink my eyes open, there’s nothing of that. My lips curl into a smile, as he shifts against me, drawing my gaze on him. His mouth parted, tongue peeking out, puffing that sort of heavy-sleep breaths.

We both love to sleep-in. There’s nothing better than the luxury of not having to get up early, nothing better than to wake up slowly and lay in bed for a few sweet minutes (or more than a few). But Armie is usually first to move, maybe as a sort of residue reaction after having kids. I’m not sure, but he had found the most delicious ways to get me up within the past months. So I can’t really complain about the loud and stupid alarm anymore. The best so far has been the one when I woke up with him swallowing me down to the root. Best birthday ever.

This time though he is still asleep and I take the luxury to just look at him sleeping there beside me, peacefully. Remembering the time when I thought it would never be possible. The pang of hurt flickers through my heart, but I shunt it off. I don’t want to think about it. Especially not today. 

He shifts against me, dragging my thoughts back to him and I fill my eyes with the softness of his cheeks, the shadows of his eyelashes cast against his skin, the hoarseness of the stubble he sports lately. Because I mentioned it to him the other day, I love the feel of it against my skin. I smile to myself and I’m sure I look like a lovesick teenager. But honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck. 

I shift, nuzzling his neck, scenting that wonderful mint, citrus body wash he uses recently. Relishing into the softness of his skin against mine. There is this deep, settled heaviness in my muscles, the one acquired after long hours of sleep and I savour it, snuggling even closer. He shifts and groans, his body moves, pulling me in, his arm wrapping around my middle. I can feel his half-hard cock, nestled against my thigh. My heart twitches and my own cock stirs in response. 

I look up, see his eyelids halfway open, he blinks a couple of times and grunts, as if he hasn’t planned on waking up, as if he doesn’t like the process. And I know he doesn’t. We both don’t. But waking up against him turned out to be one of the most amazing things that happened to me. Alongside falling asleep right beside him. 

And there it is, the first kiss after we moved in together, with all morning breath and chapped lips, the sheets still too rough to the touch, not softened after countless washes. But they will. I open my mouth to let his tongue inside, kissing him languidly. A bit more soundly.

I still remember the first time I woke up next to him. It was at his LA’s apartment and all I could think was to sneak out to the bathroom, brush my teeth, pee and clean myself a bit to not stick with sweat when he woke up. But he had his arm thrown over my waist, pinning me to the bed, snuggling me close to his body. And he didn’t care that I had morning breath. He didn’t care that my skin was flushed and sheathed with sweat. He just kissed me like it was the first thing to come to his mind and the only one he wanted to do from now on. To kiss me. 

_ God _

I wanted to promise him, my undying love, right then and there. But I was afraid of scaring him off

It took me time to get used to it. To be the centre of his attention. To be his everything as he was mine. It was the most amazing feeling ever. The most terrifying one at the same time. 

It still terrifies me. But not today as much as the other days. I keep on kissing him, my mind still foggy from the sleep, not sharp and alert, it takes me by surprise when one of his hands lands on my lower back and drifts lower to cup my ass. I shift, landing between his legs, nibbling at his lower lip and undulating my hips. I open my eyes to look at him and I see his eyes smiling at me, his face dotted with happy wrinkles that I want to kiss and cherish. I can feel the happiness oozing off him in unstoppable waves. I treasure this as my own victory, but it’s also a startling realization. I can’t imagine my life without him anymore. I know he feels the same. 

I shunt it all away and kiss him with passion burning inside me, he groans straight into my mouth, pushing his up against mine, his hands now firmly squeezing my ass. I must admit sleeping naked makes the fucking easier in the morning. There’s also something incredibly arousing and freeing in lying stark naked in your bed, the soft surface of sheets skimming against your skin, your partner’s body behind you, just there, keeping you warm and soothed. I remember the first time he shook all of his clothes and crawled under the comforter, I was standing next to the bed, panicking about what I should do. He looked at me through those breathtaking eyelashes of his, lifted the duvet and whispered gently ‘ _ come to bed _ ’. I laid there, completely undone, my heart hammering in my chest and I felt like in a span of a second I was broken into tiny little pieces and put back together. 

I sneak my arms and cradle his face, the stubble prickling my skin deliciously. I push against him, breaking the kiss and simply looking at him, at his mesmerizing blue eyes, at his full, kissed-swollen lips, his perfect nose. I smile at him. He smiles back at me. And I know it wasn’t a mistake. It could never be. Choosing him. Choosing this. Pauline asked me yesterday when we were moving the boxes if I was sure. If I was sure of the commitment I was taking. If I was sure that I wanted to move with him to the apartment we both chose. If I wasn’t rushing things out. Right now, star naked in the bed on top of him, it couldn’t be more clear that _ yes _ , ten thousand times yes, this is what I want. Now and forever.

“Good morning” I whisper, brushing my lips against him

“Good morning indeed” he replies, smiling, a bit mischievously, but I love that in him. That little child that finds its way out to the open, gracing me with his impish enjoyment to anything he can find amusing. Even if it’s playing Monopoly with a new set of rules he himself made up. Or spending time on the floor doing jigsaw puzzles with tv playing in the background. It’s all that and more. So much more. 

He grabs my thighs and flips us over, so I’m lying on my back with his weight settled above me, pinning me to the mattress. He kisses me then, shoving his tongue inside my mouth like there’s no tomorrow, devouring like a starved man, and I respond to him with equal ferocity. His hands are skimming down my sides, eliciting goosebumps on my skin and I squirm under him. Wanting to move away from his touch and push against his hands at the same time. He cups my ass, his fingers grazing over the wrinkled skin of my hole and I shamelessly push down on them. He pulls away from the kiss, pants against my mouth.

“You can fuck my thighs” I whisper, smiling wickedly at him, watching his eyes flare with lust. He hastens to comply, reaching out to the bedside table and snatching the lube, before gently prompting me to lay on my side. I hear him squeezing the lube on his palm, warming it a bit between his fingers, he slicks himself up, the sounds clear and arousing. He spreads a bit of lubricant between the inside of my thighs, and then pushes his cock there, groaning. 

I always love when he grabs me like so, spooning me from behind and pushing against me, his lips on my neck, sucking and bruising, while we rock together. He still isn’t totally awake, his movements erratic, but the head of his cock still shifts against my balls, brushes over my hard-on. I can feel he is getting close, the way he pants the puffs of hot breath against my heated skin, the way he sneaks his arms around my waist, wrapping me tighter against him. His hand shifts to close around my cock and stroke me in time with his thrusts. I hear him groan, biting down the choke before he spills between my thighs and I follow him a few strokes after.

I roll over on my back, breathing heavily, looking at the ceiling. I can hear him panting next to me, his body sending waves of heat. I’m all sweaty, the roots of my hair unpleasantly wet, the ends of my curls damp, clinging to my bare skin in a quite annoying manner. If I could have some strength I would flip them, but I have none, so I just lay there feeling tired, but happy and accomplished. 

“We stink. We should have a shower” he says, turning to the side, idly drawing circles over my left hip bone. I shiver, my cock twitching appreciatively, the futile attempt to get hard again not being lost on him and he chuckles, moves to nuzzle my neck, nipping and sucking. 

“Or we could eat first. ‘M hungry” I respond, sure that in a second my stomach will start its own rumbling symphony. I’m not sure when was the last time I ate something. With all those boxes, with all the moving and driving, with all the problems and difficulties, it was very easy to forget about food. 

“We can have a feast after we shower. Maybe some breakfast in bed” he suggests, whispering the words that skim gently over my cooling skin, the goosebumps appearing under his breath. 

“We can run a hot and long bath, instead of a quick shower once we are full” I counter, even though his proposal sounds enticing. But I can feel my sore muscles, I can feel the tiredness in my bones and I know that the hot, long bath is just the perfect idea. We can always get back to bed after and spend the rest of our day there.

The first day in  _ our _ apartment. 

“What do you wanna eat, huh?” he asks then, my heart flutters in my chest and I smile, overcome with the happiness of just having him. 

“Pancakes?” I enquire, my stomach rumbling at the mere suggestion. He laughs wholeheartedly, the belly kind of laugh that shakes all his body, then he kisses me, just a peck on the lips before sliding off the bed and saying

“Come on then”

When I enter the kitchen I’m hit with the striking difference between the two of us. He is at the stove, the pancake batter already made which makes me flush with shame, I haven’t intended to take so long to crawl out of bed. He is nothing but in his checkered boxers and pink apron, I remember he got as a humorous birthday gift. Unlike him, I’m wearing some black underwear and his grey hoodie that is so oversized and big on me, that the hem reaches almost my mid-thigh. I’m always running cold, meanwhile, he is like a living furnace. 

“Why are you wearing this?”I ask, getting behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing against his back, standing on my tiptoes to prop my chin over his shoulder 

“I didn’t want to get oil burns”

“No, not the apron. This” I say, fumbling with the hem of his boxers “I was ready for the real feast you know. Sitting there at the table, watching you flip pancakes on the pan with your ass muscles flexing and contracting. And you come up with this”

He snorts, his tummy rumbling with laughter and I can feel vibrations against my chest. 

“Tell you what. You can get rid of them as soon as I’m done. I’m just not really into you calling an ambulance on our first day here because I’ve managed to burn my bits frying”

“Okay” I agree easily, nuzzling his neck, giving him a few kisses, before pulling back

“Though you’re overly clothed for objecting about me”

“M cold,” I say, shrugging, pulling the chair and sitting, almost folding my knees against my chest to cover my legs with my hoodie. Or should I say  _ his _ hoodie that I sneakily claimed as mine. But I remember the first time he noticed it. How his features softened, his eyes lighted up and a small smile curled his lips. No one knew I stole this hoodie from him and I relished in that thought. Knowing it was a secret between the two of us.

He hums to the music, swinging his hips from side to side and it’s so domestic, my heart skips a bit, my insides melting. I couldn’t ever imagine anyone better to be with. 

He turns, a plate stacked with pancakes in hand, he places it in front of me and leans down to shrug the hoodie over my head and kiss the top of my atrocious morning bedhead. He looks at me then and I pout exaggeratedly, he chuckles but bents and kisses me on the lips. 

“Now let’s eat, because I’m fucking starving” he admits, before biting into the food and I follow, the butterflies dancing in my stomach. 

Sometime later, when we are lying in the huge bath, with his back pressed into my chest and his ass against my pelvis, while I run my fingers through his blond threads, I smile to myself remembering that day. The day we thought fuck it, let’s do this.

_ “Let’s do it. Let’s move in together” he says out of the blue startling me. I look at him wide-eyed, confused but also hopeful. _

_ “What?” _

_ “Yes. Let’s get an apartment together, wherever you want. Somewhere we could go and just be, as you and me, somewhere we could wind out and relax. Something for us.” I continue to nod while he keeps on blabbing, before I rush forward, kissing him hard and whispering quickly _

_ “Yes, yes, yes” _

I look down at him, his head propped on my shoulder, his eyes closed and his lips curled into a soft and content smile. His eyelashes are wet, droplets of water sticking to them, making me want to kiss them away. I’m sure I’m looking smitten. All lovey-dovey. But I just don’t care.

“I love you,” I say, leaning down and kissing him. 

He opens his eyes, looking at me adoringly, mouthing ‘ _ Love you too _ ’.


End file.
